


Rustlers & Vagabonds

by haldoor



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Western, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haldoor/pseuds/haldoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Warnings/Spoilers:</b> Nothing for the show; uneasy attitudes about homosexuality in keeping with the setting<br/><b>Disclaimer:</b> I have never owned these characters and probably never will.  No harm intended and I make no money from thrusting them into situations that they would never encounter in the show.<br/><b>Beta:</b> The always helpful and extremely kind <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_siluria"><a href="http://siluria.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://siluria.livejournal.com/"><b>siluria</b></a></span>.  I can't thank you enough on this one, my dear *hugs*<br/><b>Summary:</b> Danny is the sheriff of a mid-western town in the late 19th century.  The son of a local rancher who has recently returned from a long stint away in the army, Steve is at a loose end until his father insists he can help the lawman catch some cattle rustlers.  Danny has yet to meet Steve, and he's not so sure he needs the assistance, but something hits him as soon as he sees him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rustlers & Vagabonds

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for [](http://siehn.livejournal.com/profile)[**siehn**](http://siehn.livejournal.com/)'s birthday back in February; originally requested via [](http://yearofgoodness.livejournal.com/profile)[**yearofgoodness**](http://yearofgoodness.livejournal.com/). Apologies for the delay, and I hope it's worth the wait! ;-)

Sheriff Danny Williams sighed and stepped out of the jail to look down the quiet main street of Franklin, the town that he’d been the main representative of law and order in for the last two years. It was a small place, and usually calm enough – ‘cepting the odd bar fight or minor assault – but recently there’d been a spate of cattle thefts that had the local land-owners calling out for blood.

Danny had deputised a couple of cowboys he knew and trusted to help in the search for the perpetrators, but so far all they had was cold tracks leading out of the county. He frowned, moving off the boardwalk, and got onto his horse. He’d been summoned for an update by Jack McGarrett, the owner of the largest ranch nearby. He was obliged to go; McGarrett paid wages to half the town, and if he didn’t, there wouldn’t be much of a place for Danny to maintain justice in.

The trip out to the McGarrett homestead was dusty and hot, and the air was almost too still. Heat haze already made the trail shimmer, and he was reminded why he hated this part of the country so much. For a while he called to mind the bustling city streets back east that he was so familiar with and wondered why he’d followed his ex-wife out this way, then reminded himself if it wasn’t for his young daughter, he never would have. Grace meant everything to him, and since she was likely to be his only child, he wasn’t about to lose her to the untamed wilds his ex-wife’s rich new husband had insisted they move to, no matter how large and comfortable their new home was out here in the greatly uncharted mid-west.

Not passing a soul on the journey to McGarrett's, it was hard to imagine someone thundering through here with several hundred head of cattle on their way out of the county.

Danny pondered the recent return of McGarrett’s son, who he had yet to meet; the man had been away fighting in the troubles to the south that had recently been quelled. He’d been gone some time before Danny took over as sheriff, and only recently been released from his commission to return to work on his father's spread. Danny knew McGarrett Senior well enough, and he knew how proud he was of his son, but Danny wasn’t sure the man was exactly the hero his father imagined. Most of Danny’s experiences with soldiers hadn’t led him to believe in them so easily. Perhaps McGarrett Junior was who his father believed he was, but perhaps not. Jack seemed to think his son had the skills to help find the cattle rustlers, anyway, but Danny wasn’t sure he needed the assistance.

As he rode, Danny tried to think of convincing words to sway McGarrett into leaving the search up to him and his men. He thought he had just the right speech prepared as he rode into McGarrett’s yard and dismounted to knock (although he was certain McGarrett would already know he’d arrived).

The sight that greeted him as the door opened almost made him take a step back; he hadn’t expected this tall dark stranger with the incredibly long eyelashes and the build of a mid-weight boxer to answer the door.

He could only be one person: McGarrett’s son.

“You must be the new sheriff,” the vision said, smiling and holding out his hand. “I’m Steve McGarrett. Sorry for the informality; maid's day off.”

Danny swallowed and blinked, taken aback at his reaction to the newcomer. “P-pleased to meet you, Mr. McGarrett. Uh… Sheriff Danny Williams,” he managed with difficulty, taking the large warm hand and shaking it firmly. “I’ve been here two years now, so if that makes me _new_ , then yes, I am the ‘new’ sheriff.” He gestured vaguely and rocked on his heels as he quickly surveyed the entire six feet of McGarrett’s body.

“Come in; my father’s expecting you.”

Danny nodded and smiled, following McGarrett down the hall to his father’s study.

“Dad, sheriff’s here.”

Danny forgot all about his speech in favour of nodding at everything McGarrett Senior said, sipping from the cool lemonade he’d been offered upon being seated, and casting appreciative glances at the son every now and then. McGarrett Junior was the best-looking man Danny had seen out here in some time, and although he doubted the man would be interested in the imaginings Danny was trying desperately to suppress right now, he couldn’t help hoping.

Steve McGarrett kept offering small smiles in Danny's direction as his father extolled the virtues of Steve’s exploits in the army and made suggestions about his usefulness in seeking the cattle thieves. It could have been embarrassment at his father over-stating his abilities, or – as Danny couldn’t help wishing – they were indicative of his own interest in Danny. Most cowboys – not to mention commissioned officers of America’s finest – didn’t smile at other men quite so often and so easily unless they were contemplating bending the man over something steady while they fucked him into oblivion.

And right about now being fucked into oblivion by this particular officer sounded like the best idea Danny had had in forever.

His last opportunity to indulge his secret side had been over three months ago when a wagon-train had stopped just outside of Franklin on the way west. One of the strapping young farmers had eyed Danny up as he approached to enquire about their needs and intentions regarding the length of their stay in these parts. Danny had met the man later at the town stables for a late-night roll in the hay - literally.

They’d fucked three more times before the train left town, and Danny had tipped his hat politely to the farmer and his companions as they moved on, sure he’d never see the man again. Besides, the pretty girl who’d been flirting with the farmer every time they’d met in public was sure to be his wife as soon as they settled somewhere permanently, and at that point his liaisons with a mid-west sheriff would become vague and distant memories, if he thought on them again at all.

That memory wasn’t helping him now though, and Danny was having a hard time – in more than one way – concentrating on McGarrett Senior's words. He managed a smile as Jack finished up what he was currently saying and looked at him expectantly.

Steve flicked a glance at his father and then looked straight at Danny. “I’m all yours. How do you need me?”

Danny blinked quickly, and turned what he hoped wasn’t a completely startled expression from Steve back to Jack. “Thank you, sir,” he managed and then stood up, carefully returning his eyes to Steve’s face. How he needed Steve and for him to be all Danny’s wasn’t hard to visualise, and he held his hat over his groin so the two men couldn’t see exactly how the words had affected him.

“Steve… I can call you that, can’t I?” Danny started, swallowing hard as he focused on the uneven grin aimed at him. The man had to realise the effect he was having, didn’t he?

“Sure,” McGarrett Junior confirmed, the grin not lessening any as he and his father also stood up.

“Right now, I’m waiting for two of my men to return from tracking a possible lead. Once they give me the information they have, I may have need of you as back-up should the gang responsible for this be more than a couple of men, which I’m thinking they must be, going by the amount of cattle missing in so short a space of time.”

“Right,” Steve agreed, his face growing serious. “I’ll meet you out front in five minutes.” He nodded at his father and took his leave.

Jack McGarrett came around his desk and gestured for Danny to precede him outside. “Steve is very capable, Sheriff. I’m sure you’ll find his help invaluable with this. And… with luck, we can keep him here now the army no longer require his skills.”

“I hope you’re right, sir, and I’ll do what I can to help make him want to stay.” Boy, would he ever. This wasn't how he'd expected this meeting to go, but now it had, Danny couldn't say he was disappointed.

It had to be only five minutes to the second when Steve appeared from around the side of the ranch house on the back of a horse. Danny gulped at the sight of Steve’s firm thighs in their tight pants against the tan horseflesh, and took note of the guns strapped at either hip. He didn’t doubt the man knew how to use them, but he did wonder how fast and loose Steve was likely to play. Danny liked to check things thoroughly before drawing his own weapon, but he wasn’t convinced someone with Steve’s background would be quite so judicious.

Steve saw where his eyes rested and raised his eyebrows as Danny climbed up on his own horse. “Don’t worry, I know how to use ‘em,” he drawled with a smirk.

“I’m sure you do, but remember this is my case, Steve, and I give the orders on when to shoot and when to hold fire. You can follow an order, I suppose?” Danny turned his horse and led the way out of the yard, casting an eye back to see Jack squinting at him from under the shade of the veranda. The man said nothing, but he nodded as Steve tipped his hat and followed Danny.

“Been following orders for some time now,” Steve said, coming up beside Danny and eyeing him sideways. “Know how to give a few of my own too. Seen a fair amount of horse thieves and deserters in my time. Don’t need telling how to deal with cattle rustlers.”

Danny raised his own brows at that. McGarrett’s attitude might be just what he needed to cool his interest. The last thing he needed was McGarrett figuring him out and using the guns on him – or worse. “That right? Hang 'em high? Because I’m telling you now, McGarrett, that’s not how I do things. No matter how guilty these rustlers might be, they’ll be getting a fair trial in my town.”

“Your town? Forgive me if I’m wrong, but if this town belongs to anyone, it’s my father.”

Danny’s face split in a wide grin and he shook his head. “So I suppose it’ll be yours when he passes on?”

McGarrett scowled deliciously under his hat, before his face lightened up into a proud smile. “I was born out here, Sheriff Williams, and if anyone has the local knowledge you need, it’s me. I’m also better with a gun than any of the cowboys you have working for you now, and my father knows that. You think he’d have sent me with you otherwise?”

“Oh, I have no doubt your father believes in your abilities, Steve. The question is whether his belief is justified."

"It is." Steve gave him one last unreadable look and spurred his horse into a gallop.

Danny shook his head. The man was not only arrogant, he was way too confident. Nudging his own horse to speed up after McGarrett, Danny hoped he wasn't making a mistake in agreeing so easily to have him help.

~//~

The lead his men had gone after seemed promising from what they reported, and they'd caught some rumor about the next ranch the rustlers were to hit – and when – along the way too. It was about time they caught a break. Danny sent the two of them to rest overnight as they'd been pushing hard to get back with the news; they'd done their job well but were clearly exhausted. He directed them to report to Jackson's ranch – where the next raid was due – at first light.

After the deputies left the sheriff's office, Danny turned to Steve McGarrett, noting the slight look of puzzlement on the man's face. "If you're up for it, I think we should head out to Jackson's ranch tonight. We'll camp out there near the main herd and keep watch, just in case these rustlers have set up false rumors along the way. Tomorrow night may turn into tonight, especially if they know the story's out."

"Might not even be the right ranch in that case," McGarrett suggested. "How can you be certain they'll hit Jackson's?"

"Can't be," Danny shrugged, "but it's all we've got. I don't have enough men to cover every ranch in the county, and a lot of them have already been hit. Most of them will have men out on watch already, but… Jackson's is the biggest after your father's, so it's harder to keep an eye on all the cattle. And they haven't lost any yet, so chances are the rumor could be right. We'll be there; be ready, should they strike."

Steve gave him another one of those looks Danny wasn't sure he understood, but didn't say anything more as they got ready to head out. The ride out to Jackson's was quiet; Danny had too many things going through his mind about how he was going to get through a night sitting by a campfire with Steve McGarrett in close proximity – annoying as he was or not – to say much, and McGarrett seemed intent on surveying the terrain as they travelled. Danny was grateful for the silence and didn't complain.

After a quick stop at Jackson's Spanish-style sprawling ranch house to inform Carter Jackson and his wife of their plans, they headed out across the property to the south, where Jackson said his men were spread thinnest. Mrs Jackson had ensured they were well-supplied with food and coffee for their supper, along with an extra blanket each she'd insisted upon, though Danny somehow doubted he'd be cold enough to use it.

"This looks like a good place," McGarrett announced as they approached a clearing in the wooded area where a good number of cattle were grazing lazily at the patchy grass available.

It was surrounded by a high ridge on three sides, and the uneven ground looked to provide a decent amount of cover, should they need it. There was only one proper way in to the area, and they'd easily be able to see anyone approaching without necessarily being targets for the rustlers. There were a couple of hundred head of cattle there too; surely an attraction for the thieves.

Danny nodded, dismounting from his horse. "I'm surprised Jackson hasn't put men here, to be honest; seems like an easy target, and not hard to keep an eye on."

"Didn't he say he's had trouble keeping men on? Have to wonder what sort of wages he's paying. I know my father's hired a couple of men out from under him." McGarrett climbed off his own horse, giving Danny an unobstructed view of the man's ass, well-framed by his tight pants, as he did so.

Danny gulped and looked away, leading his horse to a scrubby patch of grass and hobbling it for the night. He was leaving the saddle on – much as he disliked doing so – in case they had to move quickly in the night. There was a tiny stream of water trickling from one side of the ridge, which explained why the cattle were so content here. He patted his horse's neck and turned back to McGarrett.

"You think he's a bad boss? Seems pretty fair from what I've seen. The men your father hired have any complaints?"

Steve took off his hat and frowned, thinking. "Not that I heard." He led his own horse nearer to Danny's and stroked its nose absently before going on. "You think a cowboy with a grudge against local ranchers might be involved?" He hobbled his horse and removed his bedroll, coming back to where Danny was gathering things together to make a fire.

Danny nodded. "I'm not saying that's a fact; just a possibility. Hard to fathom why anyone would go for so many local ranches though, and they seem to know their way around or they might have been caught sooner."

"Makes sense." Steve didn't say anything further, but taking his cue from Danny, started searching for firewood.

It was almost sunset, and it would cool down some out here, despite the day's heat. Danny got the fire underway quickly and pulled out the food Mrs. Jackson had given them to heat up. It had to be said it was better than the blackened bread and beans Danny would have ended up providing. He smiled into the pot as the fragrant stew started to bubble, and turned to reach for the enamel plates he'd placed out of harm's way behind him.

Meeting Steve McGarrett's eyes unexpectedly over the utensils, he swallowed hard at the expression in them and stopped dead for a second. McGarrett flicked his eyes aside after a moment, his neck muscles tightening as his skin took on a slight glow.

Danny narrowed his eyes, wondering, as he scooped up the dishes and turned back to ladle out the food. "Looks pretty good," he commented, handing Steve his plate without meeting his eyes. "You want coffee now or after?"

"After," McGarrett said, taking the plate and offering Danny another nervous look before grabbing his fork and beginning to eat.

Danny nodded and tucked into his own food. It was as good as it smelled, and Danny concentrated on it uncomfortably as they ate in silence. Not talking in company was like not breathing to Danny, but he wasn't sure what to say now. Steve was equally silent, and seemed to be considering something, from what Danny could tell in the quick glances he kept offering him. The man was even more attractive this close up, and Danny couldn't help noticing his long eyelashes again, and those big hands. Their callused fingers would feel good touching his skin...

Danny mopped up the last of the stew with a chunk of bread broken off the soft, fresh loaf Mrs Jackson had baked that morning, and let out a soft, satisfied moan at the deliciousness of the meal. "That was... really good. Jackson's a lucky man."

Steve swallowed the last of his own dinner and quirked a half-smile, looking away as he nodded his agreement.

"You don't think so?" Danny couldn't help asking. "You didn't like it?"

Steve looked back at him, puzzlement in his eyes. "No, it was good. I just..." He shook his head and flicked yet another odd look at Danny. His voice was gruff when he spoke again. "You going to pour that coffee?"

"Sure," Danny agreed, grabbing the two mugs and doing so.

Steve's fingers touched Danny's hand as he took the coffee, and Danny felt a burst of something go through him. There was something held-back about the man; something Danny wanted to discover - and he wasn't sure if it was because of the attraction he felt or in spite of it. After all, he knew little about McGarrett; he'd been away from Franklin a long time and although a wife hadn't been mentioned, he was certainly old enough to have one.

"You married?" he found himself asking, studying the reflection of the fire in Steve's eyes as he lifted them to meet Danny's. There were streaks of blue and green in the irises and his pupils seemed even larger right now than Danny expected for the time of day, though the sun was slowly sinking behind the ridge.

Steve swallowed a mouthful of hot coffee, dropping his eyes again before answering. "No. You?"

"I was," Danny admitted. "Didn't work out so well. She divorced me and found herself a richer man. Probably better for both of us. But we did have a daughter together, so at least one good thing came of it."

"Where's your daughter now?" Steve asked, brows creasing, his head still bent.

"Out here in Franklin. I followed Rachel and her new husband Stan out here to be close to Grace. She's my reason for sticking it out."

"You don't like it here?" Steve seemed surprised at the thought.

Danny looked at him curiously. "Like it? What's to like about some place that's hot and dusty in summer, and cold, wet and muddy in winter? Leaving aside the fact that I haven't felt properly clean since I got here, there's nothing to do and _this_ ," he gestured around them, exasperated, "is the most excitement I've had in two years."

A cow lowed nearby, emphasizing the boring aspect of the countryside. Danny waved his hand towards the sound and shrugged. "See, even the cows agree with me."

Steve looked up at last, smiling lop-sidedly. Danny swallowed hard again at the way it accentuated his good looks, and glanced away before he got drawn into the depths of the man's eyes.

"I grew up here," Steve said, "and we always found plenty to do; both winter and summer. My sister and I loved being on the farm. We'd play in among the trees in the orchard, go fishing in the river, pretend we were on a wagon train exploring new territories; that kind of thing. It was great."

Danny snorted softly, offering him a careful sideways look, and enjoying the cadence of Steve's voice as the childhood memories clouded his eyes with pleasure. "So you joined the army because...?"

"Not to get away from it, Danny; to protect it. It was important to me that no one took all this away from me or future generations behind me. I'd like to hope..." He faded off, turning away and frowning into the dirt at his feet.

Screwing up his eyes, Danny studied Steve's features, wondering why the man suddenly seemed so unhappy. "Hope what?"

"It doesn't matter." Steve smiled tightly at Danny, and turned away to empty the dregs of his coffee on the bare earth beside him.

Danny continued to watch for a moment, biting his lip. "So helping me catch these thieves will help keep the place safe for your children. That's why you're here, right?"

Steve looked at him again, pain obvious in his expression, although Danny wasn't sure what had upset him so much. They'd succeeded in meeting over something that mattered to Danny too – the future of their children – but it didn't seem to be something that pleased Steve all the same.

"I guess you don't actually have kids," Danny went on, hoping a gentle tease would make the man smile, "but one day, when you do, and they're playing Wild West Heroes in the dirt, you'll be proud of what you've done to make that possible."

But it didn't seem to help.

"It's not likely." Steve's frown deepened with the words.

"Not likely?" Danny looked up in amazement and gestured animatedly. "A guy like you? Of course you'll have children. You've been off serving your country, but now you're back working with your father... you're the most eligible bachelor in town - just look at yourself! Women will be all over you. Any of them would be only too happy to have you."

At that, Steve lifted his eyes to look straight at Danny, some kind of question in the look. Danny bit his lip nervously; he hadn't given himself away, had he? Steve couldn't possibly want what Danny did.

"I... I m-mean..." Danny stammered, sure his face was as red as it felt. "You're a good-looking man; of course you'll get married."

Steve took the coffee cup out of Danny's hands and put it down next to his own. Danny's heart was hammering, but he couldn't look away.

"I'm not the marrying kind." Steve licked his lips, studying Danny's mouth.

Danny could feel his tongue desperately trying to add moisture to his own very suddenly dry lips.

"You're not?" he asked, and swallowed convulsively a couple of times. His palms felt sweaty and he could feel the thump of his heart high in his throat.

The way Steve was looking at him was more than disconcerting; Danny held still, the moment stretching for what seemed like forever. He'd never felt so drawn to someone and at the same time so nervous about what he was hoping for. On previous occasions when he'd gone with another man, there'd been a look exchanged and then a meeting somewhere dark and private where they'd fucked and parted before any conversation could be exchanged. This seemed completely different, and yet Danny wasn't sure if the spark between them was real – the connection obvious despite their differences – or if he was imagining that what he wanted was really about to happen.

He opened his mouth to speak – to break the awkward silence – but before he could do so, Steve moved. In an instant he was suddenly right _there_ , his mouth on Danny's and his hands drawing him nearer roughly. Danny had never kissed like this, but it felt incredible; so sure and so _right_ that he immediately gave into it, his own hands scrabbling to draw Steve closer.

Before he could do anything to stop it, they'd lost their balance and were rolling into the dirt, bodies bucking into each other's touch as the kiss became hotter and deeper. Danny stopped caring about anything but what his body needed, and he fought to find entrance to Steve's clothes, pushing and shoving and grunting in tangled urgency.

"Danny…" Steve panted, drawing back from his mouth at last, his hands working as hard as Danny's to remove clothing between them. "Here; let me."

Danny didn't know what he meant and he sought the man's delicious mouth again, finally finding heated skin between Steve's trousers and shirt, and sliding his hand into the space and down the back of the pants to squeeze at his ass.

Steve pulled back, breathing heavily, a hand to Danny's chest. "Be easier if I get these off."

Danny, eyes wide and throat dry, had to hold himself back as Steve shoved his pants down his legs and scrabbled urgently to remove them and his boots. In seconds he was digging in his bedroll, finding something and shoving it towards Danny as he steadied himself on hands and knees in front of him.

Gulping at the sight of Steve's pale ass laid out so temptingly in front of him like this, Danny took the item he'd been handed and frowned down at it before meeting Steve's desperate look back towards him.

"Grease. Spit isn't enough. Please, Danny?"

Danny's dick throbbed hard at the thought of what he was about to do, and the need glittering in Steve's eyes finally galvanized him into action. Unscrewing the tiny jar he held, Danny dug into it, coating his fingers as he shuffled forward on his knees and touched Steve's naked backside.

"Don't lose that," Steve managed to grin, "Might need it again."

Danny let out a strangled laugh and struggled to get the lid back on the jar and shove it in his pocket before he moved his fingers towards Steve's waiting ass. Steve hissed as he dipped a finger inside, and Danny took in a deep breath, amazed at the heat inside. _Christ!_ He held onto Steve's cheek with his other hand, amazed that this was actually happening; that Steve was indeed bending over for him, - one of the things he'd hoped for.

"Don't hold back," Steve growled, "That's enough. Get inside me. Now!"

The barked order made Danny laugh again, although he could hear the nervous edge to the sound, and he drew his finger out again despite his worry that the preparation hadn't been nearly enough. Steve didn't seem to care and his instruction was so full of authority that Danny almost jumped to do his bidding; not something he usually did so easily. But he wanted this just as much as Steve seemed to, and until he was buried balls-deep inside the man, he knew he wasn't going to get the relief he needed.

Pushing his own half-open pants out of the way enough to get his achingly-hard dick where it needed to be, Danny guided himself into the entrance to heaven. He squeezed his eyes shut as his dick slid into place, his heart continuing to thump as he felt the muscles moving deliciously around his hard flesh.

"Oh my God," he whispered, clutching Steve's hips and beginning to rock.

"Go on; go on," Steve urged, pushing back against him and squeezing the breath from Danny's lungs with each incredible move of his inner workings.

It wasn't hard to do as instructed, and Danny groaned as he found his rhythm, enjoying the tone of Steve's desperate words of encouragement.

"Jesus, Christ, Steve…" Danny couldn't find anything original to say, but it hardly mattered. He felt his climax rising, and sped up, uncaring of the ache he could feel in one knee as the lust boiled over and into the man under him. "God, fuck, Jesus!"

Steve was still rocking under him as Danny shoved erratically a last few times, and then the man shivered violently, growling wordlessly as Danny pulled back and landed on his ass in the dirt. He gazed back at Steve in wonder, tilting his head to see Steve's hand milk the last of his own orgasm from his weeping cock under his still swaying form.

"My God…" he muttered, drawing in deep breaths as he shakily rebuttoned his fly.

Steve knelt up, finally releasing his dick and reaching for his pants with one hand as he wiped the dampness off the other in the straggly grass near where they'd fucked. Without a word, he drew his pants back on and attempted to fasten them as Danny watched. His hands were even shakier than Danny's, and he grinned up at Danny as he failed to master the seemingly simple task.

"You're good at that," Steve rasped, dropping his darkened eyes back to watch his fingers as he tried a second attempt at buttoning his fly. This time he managed the trick and let out a long slow breath as he met Danny's eyes again. "I've wanted to do that all day."

Danny huffed, unable to stop his grin at the words. "You have no idea. As soon as I saw you, I hoped…"

"It's not easy out here, no matter what it might seem like," Steve said, wiping a hand across his face and shifting nearer to Danny. "I thought I probably didn't stand a chance with you having been married before."

"That was one big mistake from start to end, apart from Grace. You… you always known about... about this?" He gestured unevenly between them.

Steve quirked a half-smile, but he didn't look pleased. "Yeah. Ever since I fell for the ranch foreman when I was fifteen. Never told anyone, but… over the years, when it started to make sense, I uh… met the occasional like-minded soul and… you know?"

Danny studied the frankness in Steve's eyes and nodded. "I fought it for a long time. But with Rachel… it seemed like the right thing to do and I thought it would change the way I was. It did, for a while, but not properly. Then there were men. Not many, but a few."

"She knew?"

"God, no! I never let her find out. Eventually though… well, the lack of interest had to be a clue. She… she wanted out before I did; found herself someone better, and I had to let her go. I couldn't exactly say I loved her more than he did, or that I wanted her to stay.

"Why am I telling you this?" Danny suddenly realized he was giving away far more than he'd ever done to anyone before.

"It's okay, Danny. I understand. I'm not about to say anything to anyone."

Danny ran a hand through his hair, pushing the strands back across his head as he looked out over the darkness around them. He took a breath and looked skyward, amazed as always at how many stars were visible in the night out here. "Thank you. I appreciate it." He brought his eyes back to Steve, squinting curiously at the lop-sided smile aimed his way. "I'm guessing your father doesn't know either?"

"No way." Steve shook his head. "I've told him I have no interest in marrying, but not the real reason why. He gets that being away with the army for so long, being around soldiers and not having much time for women means I need some time to adjust to life back here, but… "

Letting the words trail off, Steve shrugged, and turned away. "Anyway, one of us should get some rest while the other goes on watch. We can swap halfway."

Danny smiled tightly and nodded. "Good point." He wasn't sure they'd talk about this again, but he hoped they'd have the opportunity for it, as well as the other, some time soon. Much as Steve McGarrett could be annoying, Danny knew he liked him way too much to let it drop. McGarrett wasn't exactly hard on the eyes, nor was he bad at what they'd just done; there had to be room for hope.

"I'll take the first watch." Steve's voice was low and steady, and Danny nodded his agreement, looking into the beautiful darkness of the man's eyes. There _was_ more to their interaction than the mere lust he normally felt with men like McGarrett, but he couldn't be sure what he was seeing in Steve's expression as he turned away and stoked the fire.

"Wake me in four hours, then."

Steve nodded, but didn't look back at him.

Danny laid his bedroll out and pulled the blanket over him, propping his hat partially over his head so he could study the man from under it without being observed. His heart still thudded – albeit more softly now – in his chest, sending warm waves of satisfaction through the rest of his body. It had been foolish to do what they had – he knew that, considering what they were here for – but he couldn't regret it.

The idea of two men such as them discovering a way to share their lives out here, no matter how secretly they had to live it, was like a drug to him: its lure sweet and desperately tempting, even though he knew it went against what most people would see as normal and natural. He couldn't see it that way at all, although he knew it could be dangerous for them should they choose to follow that path. Maybe Steve could be convinced to see it similarly, though that was probably reaching further than he should after one isolated moment of pleasure.

Steve glanced in his direction a couple of times, but otherwise kept his eyes on the second cup of coffee he'd poured himself, or on the fire he poked from time to time. Before long, Danny found himself drifting into sleep, content and warm next to the fire, and he knew nothing until Steve shook him awake some time later.

~//~

Blinking, Danny smiled up at Steve, remembering the connection between them and almost forgetting what they were there for. Steve smiled back at him for a moment, and then spoke in a whisper, his voice alluring despite the seriousness of the words. "Someone's here. Over by the entrance to the hollow."

Danny fought the urge to leap up, gun at the ready; rolling quietly to his knees and keeping low, he followed Steve behind a rock. The fire had died out, which was probably as well, though there was moonlight etching everything in contrasting shadows of gray.

"How many?" he muttered into Steve's ear, lifting the gun he'd grabbed as he moved out of his bedding.

"Three. One over there," Steve gestured with the barest move of his hand, "and two more that way." His head tipped slightly and Danny followed the line of his sight, squinting into the shadows until one took form and began to move. "They didn't see us though."

Another shadow followed the first, then someone struck a match where Steve had first indicated, his face coming into view as he lit the cigarillo in his mouth. The voice of the man with the cigar carried in the still air.

"No one here."

"Jackson 's a fool," one of the others said, "This place is easy picking. I told him more'n once that it was a good place to hide a man."

"Never mind all that," said Cigarillo, "How many head you think are here? You got the branding iron, Donaldson?"

Danny tensed, looking about for the man Cigarillo had named. Steve put a hand on his wrist, making him look at McGarrett's face. Steve touched a long finger to his own lip, indicating Danny should keep quiet. "You know him?" he whispered, his breath sending a shiver down Danny's neck.

"Donaldson was the foreman at Kingston's ranch... up until three months ago," Danny muttered.

Three months ago Donaldson had been unceremoniously fired for selling off stock he didn't have the owner's permission to be moving off the ranch, and pocketing the cash. By the time Robert Kingston had found his record books in one of the barns – along with a doctored branding iron – and called Danny in, Donaldson had slipped out along the river and disappeared.

The records were a mistake he was unlikely to be repeating unless he was completely stupid, but it looked like the altered branding iron was still part of his routine. No wonder no one had seen any of the cattle out of place anywhere. The rustling _had_ started about two months back as it happened, and none of them, not even Danny, had suspected Donaldson, despite the coincidence. He'd assumed the man long gone when none of his inquiries had turned up a single clue.

Danny didn't recognize the accomplices so far. Almost everyone locally came into town at some point for the saloon or Clarrissa's bathhouse, so unless they'd been very brief in their previous visits, he was sure he would have seen them around.

As Donaldson moved closer to Cigarillo and set to building a fire, Danny shook his head in wonder at his missing the significance of the timing of the rustling. Then he let the thought go and turned to meet Steve's eyes. Almost like they'd done this before, they nodded at each other in silent agreement; then Steve was off around one side of the rock, barreling into the ex-foreman, and punching him unconscious before either of the other two could draw their guns.

Danny stood up, cocking his own gun and pointing it at Cigarillo's head. "I wouldn't if I was you."

Cigarillo spun, his aim to the left of Danny's head as he let a shot off. Danny ducked and shifted sideways, just catching a glimpse of Steve moving through the shadows towards the third man, who was shooting back at him and running away at the same time. Steve didn't seem to care about the bullets, and was clearly gaining on the other man. Danny shot at Cigarillo, assuming Steve able to handle himself, and his smile was tight as Cigarillo went down, clutching at his gun arm, the weapon falling uselessly some feet away from him.

By the time Danny had bound Cigarillo's wound with the man's own bandana and tied his hands together, and then checked on Donaldson – who was still out of it – Steve was marching the third man back towards him, his arm bent halfway up his back and blood pouring down his face from a gash about three inches long on his forehead.

Danny frowned at Steve as he suggested that the man should kneel down next to Cigarillo.

"What?" Steve asked, looking at Danny once his prisoner had obeyed the instruction and Steve had tied his hands up to keep him there.

"You do that?" Danny gestured at the gash on the man's forehead.

"He hit a rock." Steve's expression said that might be stretching the truth, but Danny didn't push it; he'd shot Cigarillo, after all. A permanent scar from 'hitting a rock' wasn't that much different from the hole in Cigarillo's arm.

Steve picked up Donaldson's inert form and slung him over the back of one of the rustlers' nearby horses, tying him in place firmly, while Danny assisted the two bound men to mount up on the others. He kept his gun at the ready watching them as Steve gathered up the brand and other equipment and then tied his and Danny's bedrolls in place on their own horses.

Once they were ready, he smiled tightly at Steve as he climbed onto his horse, and they left the hollow with their captives between them.

~//~

"The circuit judge is due in three days time," Danny told the prisoners, so you'd be doing all of us a favor if you told us where the cattle are now. He might be inclined to go easy on you if we can recover some of the stock. Everyone knows what happens to cattle rustlers."

Donaldson, a rough-looking lean man of about forty, gave a bark of laughter. "Like it matters if they find the cows. We'll get hung either way; we all know that much."

His sore head hadn't improved his outlook since he'd woken up in captivity, but Danny couldn't say it mattered. In fact, ever since the man had come around, Danny had silently thanked Steve McGarrett for putting him out before the journey back to town. Donaldson hadn't stopped bitching about everything from how threadbare his cell blanket was to how Kingston's ranch had the worst conditions he'd ever experienced and how that had directly led to his thieving in the first place. At least he wasn't denying being behind the rustling.

The other two men, wounds now properly dressed and bound by the town's doctor, were more circumspect, or perhaps just willing to let Donaldson's mouth pay for the crime they'd all been involved in, hoping the judge would see them as simply accomplices not worth stringing up.

The one Danny'd nicknamed Cigarillo, swarthy and sullen, sat on the edge of the jail mattress nursing his shattered elbow and scowled at Danny like he'd insulted the man's mother.

The third man was a half-caste Mexican who Danny now recognized in daylight as a man who'd been in a fight in the saloon which Danny had been called in to break up some months ago. He'd been employed by Jackson, but news of the fight hadn't impressed the rancher and he'd fired the man, along with his adversary, who had also been in Jackson's employ. Danny hadn't seen his fighting partner around since, but this one had obviously teamed up with Cigarillo and Donaldson for the pay-back, not to mention the hope of easy money from selling the rebranded cattle on.

He currently lounged on the other mattress in the cell he shared with Cigarillo like he owned the place, despite the newly stitched forehead making him look like some kind of monster put together from pieces of dead bodies.

"You better hope whoever else is working with you isn't as stupid as you, Donaldson," Danny went on. "If you knew what was good for you, you'd give them up now. My men are on their trail, and now we know what brand we're looking for on the cows, it's only a matter of time."

"Fuck you, Williams. No way I'm giving you anything else." Donaldson spat on the floor, and then scowled at Danny again.

"Okay, your choice," Danny replied, leaning back in his chair and spreading his hands.

It made no difference to him if Donaldson and his henchmen weren't giving away much. They were the ones who'd lose by it. The Mexican was good at shooting his mouth off every time he'd drunk too much – not to mention getting in bar fights when doing so. The juicy morsel of news that had given them the heads-up about Jackson’s ranch had come out of the Mexican’s mouth directly to the sheriff of Clarksville, the nearest town just over the county border. Danny had a pretty good idea it would only take them as long to find the rest of the gang – and the missing cattle – as it took Duke and Meka to cover the ground concerned. The pieces were finally all falling into place. It had only been a matter of time and the thieves' stupidity in the end.

"I can't guarantee that your cohorts will be keeping their mouths as closed. And as long as you're aware that two men can ride faster without a few hundred head of cattle to herd along the way, then you're welcome to stay quiet – and I mean that literally – for as long as you like. I'm sure the judge will be only too happy to hear your accomplices' stories when we catch them. In absence of your side of it, whatever they have to say is only likely to make things worse for you."

"You won't get anything outta them…" Donaldson growled, then frowned as if he'd just realized what he'd given away. "When are we getting fed, anyway? It better be somethin' better than the crap you gave us last night."

There was more in the same vein, but Danny ignored it, sighing, and went back to his paperwork.

The door to the jail opened, making Danny look up in question. He tried not to let his smile widen too far when he saw who'd entered.

"Mr. McGarrett." Danny glanced at the thieves before giving Steve his full attention. Donaldson glared in Steve's direction and shut his mouth mid-sentence. The other two seemed intent on ignoring McGarrett. Danny huffed. "Thank you, Donaldson. If I'd known Mr. McGarrett's presence would shut you up so easily, I'd have asked him to stay here with us instead of letting him go get cleaned up and have the drink he earned for shutting you up last night."

 _And didn't he clean up well_ , Danny couldn't help adding internally as he offered Steve another small smile.

As Steve took off his hat, he gave Danny a look that said way more than any words could have, and then drew his brows together in a frown as he looked over the three men in the cells. "You need anything else from me before I head home, Sheriff?" he asked Danny, all business.

"No, we're under control here. Much obliged for your help last night. My men have gone on the trail of the cattle, thanks to the brand these idiots had with them. I'm confident of them finding the final evidence we need to ensure the judge gets things done right when he comes through this week." Danny gave the thieves another glance before standing up and gesturing to the door. He didn't want any of them getting any indication of how things stood between him and Steve.

Steve nodded, throwing another glare at Donaldson before preceding Danny out the door and into the roadway. He licked his lips and looked sideways at Danny.

"Once you're wrapped up here, wonder if you..." Steve cleared his throat and looked around them out of the corners of his eyes, his hands turning his hat around and around as he did so. "Would you have a drink with me when you're done?" He frowned again, clapping his hat hard onto his head and reached to untie his horse. "If you've time, that is."

Danny smiled, but Steve wasn't looking in his direction. He was mounting his horse, face still drawn tight. Danny let him settle on its back, his smile still in place as he squinted up at McGarrett. "You bet."

Steve's expression lightened, but he still wasn't completely at ease. "I hope you don't mind coming out to the ranch. Perhaps you'll consider eating with my father and me? I... um... hope you'll stay a while. Dad likes to go to bed kinda early, but I... I usually read or clean my guns before turning in."

Steve allowed a hopeful smile to cross his features, and Danny let his grin widen, amused by the man's reticence. "If you've got a good whiskey, I'd be pleased to stay and exchange stories for a while." He let his eyes say what he couldn't out loud, and a thrill of desire zinged through him at the heat becoming evident in Steve's expression.

"Tonight, then?" Steve asked, his voice sounding rough and needy as he turned his horse and looked back over his shoulder.

"Definitely, as long as my men come back with good news. I'll get word to you if not." He frowned a little at the thought and was pleased at the brief look of disappointment it produced in Steve's eyes.

"I'm confident they'll find what you're expecting today." Steve tipped his hat and clicked his tongue at his horse, moving away slowly, his eyes trained on Danny for a moment before he faced forward, his back straight and assured.

"They will," Danny called after him, backing up the steps, but unable to stop watching Steve. The man didn't leave quickly, and Danny couldn't make himself move any further. He stood on the stoop and watched until Steve was out of sight along the dusty road.

"I'm pretty sure I'll find what _I'm_ expecting tonight too," he murmured to himself, allowing his grin to resurface as he turned and re-entered the jail.

~//~

END


End file.
